


You Stole My Heart

by thewritescroll



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/M, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, Kinda, Swearing, Violence, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3117566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewritescroll/pseuds/thewritescroll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael Jones is an ex-gang member in the Austin area. When he attempts to kill his old boss, he finds out that he isn't the only one with the idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Stole My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> So my first finished one-shot! This started as two people rob the same house one night, but kind of escalated. Please leave a comment, and let me know if you find any mistakes!

Michael rubbed the sleep out of his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. In reality he had only been staked out in the tree for a couple hours, waiting until the house in front of him was dark. That was when he would finally get his revenge.

Michael - or as he was known on the streets, Mogar – was a notorious thief in the Austin area. He had slowly built up a reputation for himself in the last few years that he had been living there. After leaving his abusive parents at a young age, he spent the young years of his life in countless foster homes around New Jersey. When he was about thirteen he started to get caught up in the ‘wrong crowds’ and somehow managed to become a member of a small gang. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but it gave him enough cash to survive. His gang got into some drug trouble when he was fifteen, and as soon as he got a hold of enough money, he headed down south for a fresh start away from his old life.

But running from a life on the streets is not easy.

Michael was never able to finish school, and with his lack of credentials it was impossible for him to find a job in town. He resorted moving from alley to alley, pick pocketing people to get money for meals and occasionally having to defend himself from muggers and the like, Michael attracted the attention of the biggest gang in Austin. The leader of the gang, Flynt Coal, offered him a low-level position in the gang, as well as shelter and money, and in exchange Michael was to make some petty thefts for him. His new position put him in more danger than he first anticipated and he had to do some quick thinking in order to get himself out alive. Members of his gang slowly started to show Michael more respect, and Flynt Coal himself took notice of Michael’s achievements. He was slowly making his way up the criminal ladder. 

When he was eighteen, Michael had made it into the top ranks of Coals gang. Only a few people had the privilege of being in that inner circle, including Michael’s close friend (or more than friend), Lindsay. She was one of the reasons Michael made a name for himself, as she was the one who taught him many of his skills. They mostly bonded over her beating the shit out of him, or ‘training’ as she called it. They were partnered together on many missions, Michael mainly acting as the distraction and muscle, while Lindsay worked quietly behind the scenes, using her skills to assassinate the target before anyone realized that Michael wasn’t working alone.

It was great for a few years, good pay, time off, a great reputation, until the targets that Michael had to take down started to seem more and more innocent. But even through his doubt, he followed Coals orders almost like a puppet. His whole life was with the gang, there was no way he would be able to get up and leave on a mere whim. Then one day, he received a note from Lindsay that said “It just isn’t right anymore. I’m sorry.” She vanished without a trace. 

It was hard for Michael to avoid the signs after that, and not even three months later he ran away from the only stable life he had ever known. Or as stable as he could get. It was a struggle for him to stay under the radar, but after awhile the gang seemed to have slowed down the search for him. He used his time hiding to gain Intel on Coals gang. He soon figured out that Flynt was becoming overly power-hungry, and was killing everyone who was remotely standing in his way. This eventually led into him killing entire families because someone wouldn’t give him his money. When Michael found this out he vowed that he would take down the man himself. He worked under the alias ‘Mogar’ for years – a childhood nickname of his - as he slowly picked off members of Coals gang, but never quite able to pin down the man himself. 

He also kept an eye out for signs of Lindsay, but nothing ever showed up and he assumed that she had left the city, maybe even the country, long ago. Michael was glad that she had been able to leave behind the life she had in Austin. 

Michael had the good fortune to run into one of Coals top gang members the other day. In an effort to save himself from his inevitable death at the hands of Mogar, the man let slip the location of several of Flynts safe houses. It was nice to finally have a lead on the mob boss, but not nice enough to let the person live of course.

And that brings him to where he is now, squatting in some tree behind Flynts house and getting some seriously sore muscles. The house had been dark and quiet for roughly half an hour or so when Michael decided it was time to end this once and for all. He double checked his pistol for ammo and made sure his knives were in place before climbing down the tree and creeping slowly towards the house.

The moonlight glinted off of Michael’s newly unsheathed knives. He crept up to the back door and reached up for the door handle, turning it slowly. The door opened without a creak, a bit suspicious that someone as good at hiding as Flynt would forget to lock the door. He cautiously stalked into the house, knives held out in front of him in a fighting stance. 

The house was almost pitch black, the only light coming in through the windows. Michael took a quick glance at his surroundings. He seemed to be in the kitchen, and through an arched opening he could see the living room and a set of stairs he assumed lead to the bedroom.

He snuck to the stairs, carefully stepping on the bottom step. When it let out no noise, Michael huffed out the breath he was holding and continued. Being so close to his goal made him a little reckless, so when he reached the halfway point of the stairs he stepped on it much heavier then he should have. It let out a loud creak and Michael immediately froze.  
After hearing nothing but silence for a few minutes, Michael pressed on. When he reached the landing at the top of the stairs, he headed towards the door he knew lead to the bedroom where Flynt would be sleeping. He pressed slowly into the room, eyes trained on the bed for movement. The curtains were ruffling slightly from the open window.

He was so close to completing his journey he could almost taste it.

Keeping his knives in front of him, Michael crept up next to the still form of his former leader. A breeze came into the room through the window, blowing open the curtains and shedding light on the bed. Michael almost dropped his knives in shock.

Flynt was indeed lying still in his bed, but he was not asleep.

He was dead.

His throat was neatly slit, and the sheets below him were stained with his blood. Flynts throat and most of the blood were covered in rose petals, and more were laid out on the bed.

Oh fuck. Michael thought spastically, I have to get out of here right now.

Rose petals were the ‘calling card’ of nearby Los Santos’ notorious killer, The Rose. Not a particularly threatening name unless you knew the story behind it. On the streets no one dared to speak the name in case The Rose came after them. Even thinking the name brought chills to Michael’s spine.

He turned around quickly, ready to leave, but before he could even take a step something heavy wacked into the back of his head.

Michael saw a quick glimpse of red, and then the world went black. 

 

Michael came to slowly, blinking his eyes slowly at the darkness in front of him. Either there was something over his eyes or it was still dark out. His whole body was throbbing in pain, his head most of all. It wouldn’t be surprising if Michael ended up with yet another concussion. He tried to move his limbs, and quickly found that his arms and legs were tied. 

Stopping his weak escape attempts, Michael focused on his surroundings. He seemed to be in the back of a vehicle moving very fast. Maybe he could kick open the door and bail.

“Hey Ry, yes it all went well. I’m fine.” A voice spoke from the front of the vehicle.

Michael furrowed his brows at the sound of the voice. It seemed oddly familiar. After a few failed attempts at placing the voice to someone in his memory, he turned his attention back to the conversation his attacker was having.

“We could meet at that abandoned building in the South?” There was a pause in the conversation, and Michael could hear the faint buzz of talking from a phone. “If you guys could rough him up a bit it would be best. I wasn’t able to get a good look at him, but I don’t know of anyone else who would be crazy enough to try and take down Coal.”

Michael’s blood ran cold. Even though he’s spent his life on the streets, that was nothing compared to the precise pain of torture. It was safe to assume that’s what his attacker meant by ‘roughing up’. He had to get out of here right now. 

Michael rolled onto his back, and quietly moved around the back of the van until he found the doors. He kept his ears tuned for any breaks in the conversation his assailant was having. When they broke out in laughter, Michael brought his knees up to his chest, and kicked at the back doors as hard as he could.

He heard the shock in his attackers voice, and lifted his legs, ready for another kick. The shock reverberated through his legs, and he cracked his head on the floor of the van. 

I’m so fucked.

His vision faded to black again.

 

Michael was shocked awake by a bucket of cold water being thrown on him. Shaking his head to clear his hair out of his eyes, he got a glimpse of his surroundings. He was tied to a chair in the centre of a windowless room, the only light coming from the one hanging above his head. In the corner to his left there was a trolley-like thing with an assortment of sharp and shiny objects on it. Michael quickly glanced away from the table, suppressing a shudder.

The door to the room was right in front of him, but standing before of it was a hulking figure. It stepped into the small circle of light surrounding Michael, light hitting the black skull mask on the figure’s face.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Michael had managed to get himself captured by not only The Rose, but by Skull, the most cold-blooded killer, and the best torturer, in Los Santos. He immediately started to steel himself from the pain inevitably awaiting him. 

“I assume you know who I am.” The figure in front of him said.

Michael only nodded in response. He vowed to himself that he would stay strong for as long as he could.

“Well let’s get started then.” Skull said, adjusting his gloves, “Who are you?” 

Michael cleared his throat, “The Mad King.” He said with a smirk.

Before he could blink, his head was whipped to the side with the force of Skull’s punch. He could taste blood in his mouth; this was off to a great start. 

“I have to say, I never liked that nickname.” Skull said, now pacing in front of his chair. “Let’s try this again. Who are you?”

Michael turned his head and spat a glob of blood onto the floor. He looked up at the figure before him, grinning.

“I’m a lawyer from Jersey.” He said, mimicking the speech patterns from his early years of life.

Michael was rewarded with a punch to the left side of his face, and then one to his ribs. Disregarding the pain, he spat on the floor again.

“Listen, Skull. You can beat me all week long and I won’t break. So you can keep asking the same ques-” He was cut off mid-sentence by a sharp pressure against the vein in his neck. The Rose was suddenly standing beside him, holding a dagger to his neck. The figure was wearing a blood-red cloak, but the rest of its body was covered in shadow. Michael gulped in fear, the dagger digging into his neck.

Rose leaned in and spoke into his ear, “If you don’t want me to cut you into ribbons, I’d suggest you answer the question.”

Michael glanced at Skull, who tilted his head seeming to say ‘Go on’.

“Mogar.” He whispered, tensing when he felt the blade leave his neck. He hoped his answer was good enough.

“Ry, can you give me a minute?” The Rose spoke after a minute.

“I don’t think-”

Rose silenced him with a glare. Skull huffed, throwing his hands up, and left the room. 

The door slammed shut, leaving him alone with The Rose. The cloaked figured turned towards him sharply, and before Michael had time to react, he felt soft lips pressing against his. He froze in shock, but before he could fight back, the kiss was over. The Rose leaned back and pushed off the hood of the cloak.

“Michael.” She breathed, “You’re alive.”

Michael was sure he was going to die of shock. “Lindsay?”

She quickly cut the ropes off of his limbs. As soon as he was free, he stood up, moving to hold her. They fit together the exact same way they did all those years ago. It was like a breath of fresh air.

“What? How? You’re the Rose?” Michael asked holding her our in front of him. 

Lindsay laughed, and it was like a melody to Michael’s ears.

“It’s a long story, I’ll explain it all in a bit.”

“How did you not know it was me earlier?” Michael asked, laughing. He was becoming giddy. “Am I that easy to forget?”

“Oh shut up!” She punched him lightly on the shoulder, “It was dark, and it’s been years. You’ve gotten skinnier, and you grew your hair out.”

“Oh sure. I think you just wanted to ‘rough me up’ a bit.” He responded with a smile.

“Be quiet.” She said, leaning forward, and capturing his lips. The kiss was making up for lost time. It was deeper and more passionate than anything they’ve ever shared before. 

It seemed like it lasted hours, but it was too short all the same. They broke apart quickly when they heard someone clearing their throat behind them. Skull was back, body leaning halfway into the room.

“Umm sorry to interrupt whatever is going on here,” He started awkwardly, running his hand through his hair. “Could we get an explanation when you get a second?”

Lindsay laughed lightly, “We’ll be out in just a second Ryan.” 

Skull, or Ryan, just nodded and left the room again. 

Lindsay took Michael’s hand and led him towards the door. “I now a lot doesn’t make sense right now, but I’ll explain soon. But first I’d like you to meet my team.”

She opened the door and led him into a room of the warehouse. Ryan and four other men were sitting on various broken objects, speaking in low tones about something.

“Michael, meet the Fake AH Crew.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at startingwithayang.tumblr.com or at thewritescroll.tumblr.com  
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! (Even just a smiley face is nice) Suggestions for this AU are always welcome!


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